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Chapter Seven

Wyatt

What the hell am I missing here?

Slapping the file in my hand down on the table in front of me, I release a groan and lean back in my chair as I scrub my hand along my jaw, the two day old stubble scratching my palm. In an effort to relax, I close my eyes and blow out a breath. The frustration slowly seeps out of my body and I take another breath before opening my eyes again and leaning forward to skim Dina’s file. I don’t know why I keep hoping that each time I read it, something will click for me and it will crack the whole case wide open because, at this point, I am losing faith that it’s ever going to happen. The thing is, there’s just too many options for who could be behind the deaths of these three girls and virtually no evidence besides our business cards at each scene.

Maybe Kodiak is right.

Maybe I’m just being paranoid and seeing things that aren’t really there but I just can’t shake this feeling - the gnawing sensation deep in my gut that is screaming at me to pay attention to what is obviously right in front of my face. But if that were true, I would have seen something by now, right? I would have found something to back up my theory. I read through Rodriguez’s notes and grit my teeth when I get to the part about Dina clutching our business card as she died, almost like she was desperately trying to call us for help.

I just wish we could have been there for her.

With a sigh, I flip to the next page in her file and study the autopsy report again for the tenth time today. She had blunt force trauma to the head which is to be expected since they couldn’t find any brain activity when she was rushed to the hospital but she had defensive wounds all over her body as well. Whoever attacked her, she gave them hell and she didn’t go down without a fight. Of course there was no DNA found under her fingernails that could make this case real simple but she also had five broken ribs and a lot of internal bleeding. Reading over the information, I can see how we jumped to the conclusion we did with her husband’s history but when you add in the other girls, it doesn’t make sense anymore. Unless…

Holy shit.

What if Mitch is behind all of this? After he killed Dina, he could have continued killing girls we helped in an act of revenge for our role in helping her escape his abuse.

Jesus Christ…

It actually makes a whole lot of fucking sense and I can honestly say it’s the first viable lead I’ve come up with since I started digging into this. Besides, it takes a hell of a lot of rage to beat someone to death - something Mitch has in spades. The last time we ran into him, he punched Storm in the face and Chance had to pull a gun on him to get him to back down. I’m sure that hurt his pride quite a bit and to a man like Mitch, it’s enough to make him feel justified in his actions. Grabbing Laney’s file off of the table, I flip it open and turn to her autopsy report, hoping that maybe I’m onto something.

Fuck.

It’s a completely different MO.

In Laney’s case, it looks like her attacker surprised her and she didn’t have time to defend herself before the killer sank a knife into her chest. Why would Mitch change the way he was doing things? To throw us off his track? Or maybe I’m not onto anything at all. Shaking my head, I toss the file down and look up toward the stairs as my mind races with possibilities. If I’m going to truly pursue Mitch as a suspect, I need more information on him.

Nodding, I gather up the files and head upstairs, dropping them off in my room before I walk down to the end of the hall where Streak’s lair is. Streak is our resident tech expert so if anyone is going to dig up information on Mitch for me, it’s him.

“What?” he calls after I knock on the door and I open it. He flicks an annoyed glance over his shoulder before turning back to his computer screens. “I didn’t say come in, asshole.”

I shrug as I step into the room and close the door behind me. “Get over it, buttercup. I have a question for you.”

“Buttercup,” he mutters, shaking his head before he turns to face me and crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s your question?”

“You’ve been looking into the girls’ cases, too, right?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Have you looked into Mitch at all?”

“Mitch?” he asks, scowling. “Dina’s Mitch?”

I nod, grabbing a chair and dragging it next to his desk before I sink into it. “Yep. I was just going through the cases downstairs…”

“As per usual,” he interrupts, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, as usual. Anyway, I was thinking how when you add in the death of Laney and Sammy, Mitch killing Dina doesn’t make sense…”

“Right. And?”

“But what if it makes perfect sense?”

His head jerks back as he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m saying,” I shoot back. “What if Mitch was so pissed that we took Dina from him and pissed at Chance for pulling a gun on him that he started coming after us?”